


Drink In Those Woodland Delights

by TheBarghestsNotebook



Series: Situations of Fairy Tales [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dryad!Reader, Forest Lord!Will, Multi, Will-O-Wisp!Hannibal, blood mention, death mention, mythical creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBarghestsNotebook/pseuds/TheBarghestsNotebook
Summary: Hannibal, Will, and the Reader are forest spirits that have too much fun engaging in moonlit violence. In the aftermath of a blood bath, their dance is interrupted by Sheriff Jack Crawford and his men. Those of the forest are not so easily dismayed, however.





	Drink In Those Woodland Delights

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by "Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier, as well my own current fascination with the spirits that haunt our forests.

Scream and shout so that many may die upon this blackened hill. I stood among the dead and the dying, my chest rolling like the waves as I tried to get enough air into my lungs. Looking down, the sight illuminated by the full moon, I saw my fellows. One standing, eyes piercing the darkness. Always alert, always on guard, his form could have been so easily lost in the contrast of the woods and shadows. The other was sprawled on the ground, looking up that full moon, gaze lost in the stars and mouth drinking in their light. He was the first one to laugh as our world began to spin. My hands, covered in blood, raised towards the heavens, praising the gods of the sky. I stumbled down the hill as the other started to walk up. We helped the man up, all three of us shaking and barely able to stand. We all leaned, we all stuttered, and we all stumbled down that hill.

Laughter and shrieks of joy as we made our way from that blackened hill. As one stepped, smolders fell behind him as he felt his composure fade. Flames, just flecks of sparks that popped and zipped behind him like fireflies. The other threw those black feather that haunted his dreams into his wake and into the air. He clapped his hands and the birds that nested in the trees scattered into the sky. I spun as I watched them, my feet dancing over roots and swirling leaves in a twisting breeze. My fiery fellow stammered as his feet were caught in a rut. Hand slapped to a tree to steady himself, the bark sizzled and cracked, glowing alight with his flame. The other helped him move forward, the two almost falling into each other, foreheads together.  
We danced and spun, flowing like water through the trees as we made our way from that blackened hill. Spinning around each other, clasping hands, soft touches, whispered kisses. We were losing yourself in the moment and in the aftermath of such a hard fought battle.

But one must not judge wars by the vanguard.

All brought back to our senses, we halted in our dizzying parade as the gunshots rang out. Shouts that were not ours closed in. Hidden against trees, we pressed ourselves flat against the bark. I slid to the ground, feeling the earth beneath my fingers and toes as they curled.  
Hannibal, always the one to act first, lifted his hand and whispered softly into his palm. Flame, ghostly and brilliant, goaded by his sweet voice, flickered and sparked. Such vibrant orbs of enchantment floated away from his as he blew them away like a dandelion. They swirled in non-existent winds, bobbing lazily between the trees. Oh, did they have a silent song, an unheard seduction. One only had to look into that sweet light to be transfixed by the man’s magic. And so many were. Muskets hitting the ground as such weak men could not bare to leave them be. Oh, if only they could hold them, bring them close, maybe they would finally have such a warmth in their hearts.

But all were not so easily fooled.

The shout from Sheriff Crawford for his men not to look. Covering their eyes with their cloaks and focusing on the ground. But blocking their views of the sky would be their second downfall.

It was dear Will who acted second, much like was his to do. Raising his head to the sky, he let out his call. Deep, climbing up the trees and spreading through the branches, shaking the leaves, and reverberating through the forest. May feathers fall upon those unwary as the ravens answered back with their own calls. A song of the woods that many dared only hear while behind closed doors with prayers on their lips. Cover the moon with their wings, they did. Fill the air with their down and discarded feathers, they did. May that dark softness rain down upon those who dared try to move forward. No path nor understand can be had when the ravens seek to disrupt your train of thought.

I brought my dirty hands to my lips as I laughed at the humans’ misfortune as they tried to fight off my fellows’ onslaughts. I crossed my limbs, laughing into my wrists, unable to control myself. Such a wondrous time, such a contagious laughter.

Like wind chimes, our cackles danced around the humans in our winds. My hands came back to the ground as I lurched forward with another guffaw. The forest floor sprung to life, leaves catapulting into the air, spinning like falling snowflakes. Woods are only as dense as we made them to be, and did these woods get much denser with their discarded leaves. Suspended in the air like stars in the sky, move one and another would be behind. May they try to find their way out of that maze.

But they would not have to, for those leaves did fall.

And we were gone.


End file.
